


Kimi ga Ireba Nanimo Iranai (Until you're with me, I need nothing else)

by vogue91



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tanabata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “It’s already the 3rd today... the 7th of July is getting closer. Did you already write down your wish for Tanabata?”





	Kimi ga Ireba Nanimo Iranai (Until you're with me, I need nothing else)

It was hot.

Aiba had been rolling into bed since at least ten minutes, tangling the sheets and turning the pillow to have it on the freshest side.

But it was all useless, and in the end he gave up; first he opened his eyes wide, then he squinted when they were hit by the sunlight seeping in through the shutters. He turned to the other side of the bed, sighing when he saw it was empty.

He was sure Ohno had woken up early that morning. Perhaps it was a habit, perhaps because in the summer he liked to paint when the sun still wasn’t too hot, but it was always like that when they didn’t have to work: Ohno got up, he made breakfast and then holed himself up in his studio, while Aiba got up sensibly later, and unwillingly, and went to greet him, finding him intent with some canvass or perfecting some sculpture.

It was their normal routine, and as much as the younger felt sorry that he didn’t find him next to his when he woke up, he had to admit he loved to see him smile every time he went inside the studio, his hair messy and a frown on his face.

That morning was no different; when the heat became truly unbearable, Aiba got up, stretching.

He took Ohno’s watch from the nightstand, where the elder always left it when he went to sleep and when he painted, and he checked the time: ten thirty.

He got to the chair, taking an oversize shirt and putting it on; then he got out of the room, toward the studio.

As expected, Ohno was painting.

He stayed on the doorstep for a while, looking at his focused expression.

He loved to see him paint; he liked the small wrinkles forming on his forehead, his tongue appearing in the corner of his mouth, the way his hands painted firm strokes on the canvass.

He kept watching for a few minutes, then he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Ohno raised his eyes, vaguely startled; when he saw the younger he smiled, putting the brush down and cleaning his hands on the shirt, already stained.

“Good morning.” he said, going toward him.

“’Morning.” Aiba replied, his voice still heavy with sleep, one hand rubbing his eyes.

“Slept well?” the man asked, getting closer and softly kissing his lips.

Masaki groaned, satisfied, and smiled.

“Enough, yeah. I woke up because it was too hot to stay in bed.” he explained, and Ohno turned to look at the window, as if he had realized just now that he had likely been painting for hours.

“What time is it?” he asked, in fact.

“It’s ten thirty. What time did you get up?” Aiba asked, opening his eyes wide.

“A couple of hours.” the elder shrugged. “Want me to make you breakfast?” he asked then, pointing at the kitchen.

Aiba nodded, feeling sleepy still, and followed him to the next room.

He sat down at the table, propping his elbows up and resting his head on his hands.

He could feel Ohno’s gaze on him, and when he raised his head he saw him smile.

“What?” he asked; the other chuckled, then turned to face the counter again.

“Nothing. I like when you’ve just woken up. You’re... cute.” he explained, then started cracking the eggs to make tamagoyaki.

Aiba groaned, then he took his head in his hands again.

He liked the atmosphere.

Since he and Ohno had moved in together, a few months before, they had slowly built a routine which now he couldn’t live without, especially during those rare days when they didn’t have to rush to work.

Sitting at that table, lazily, while he watched him making breakfast was a little thing, but one he adored; one that made him call that place ‘home’.

When he had moved to Tokyo, alone, he had felt lost.

He was used to certain rhythms, certain attentions, and perhaps he was even a little spoiled, all things he couldn’t find in that apartment, lacking any personality.

He hated waking up alone at morning, coming back home alone at night and not having anyone to tell about his day to; he forced himself to go out despite how tired he felt, so that he wouldn’t have felt the weight of loneliness.

With Ohno, it was a different matter.

There was something in living together with him that made him feel like he was with his family. A feeling of intimacy, of simplicity that made him believe that this wasn’t just the place he lived, but it was truly his home. He didn’t feel the need to get out anymore, because he felt wonderful there where he was.

And he liked to think it was like this for Satoshi as well; he had been the one to suggest they moved in together, he had said clearly how things were between them. He just needed to look at him now, while he looked so relaxed making him breakfast, and know that it was something he was never going to give up on.

It took him about ten minutes, then the elder put down in front of him the miso soup, the rice and the tamagoyaki, then went to sit next to him.

Aiba seemed to wake up all of a sudden, he took his chopsticks and started eating.

“Umai!” he said after a while, his mouth full; Ohno smiled, bowing a little.

“I’m glad you like it.” he said, low.

The younger kept eating, more enthusiast than he had felt a while before.

He was done with the tamagoyaki, and was about to start with the rice when he saw Ohno staring at something behind him.

He turned, and saw the orizurus they had hanged a few days before, waiting for Tanabata. Next to them, they had placed the bamboo as well, but there still wasn’t any tanzaku on it.   

Aiba stared at them, intently, before turning again.

He glimpsed at the calendar, then spoke to Ohno.

“It’s already the 3rd today... the 7th of July is getting closer. Did you already write down your wish for Tanabata?”

“No. I don’t need it.” the elder replied, instinctively, before lowering his eyes and blushing slightly.

Aiba stared at him, confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked, lowering his head as well to try and look him in the eyes.

Ohno kept staring at the table.

“I mean... I’ve always hanged the tanzaku for Tanabata. We’ve always done that at home, so it’s an habit. But this year...” he paused, and finally forced himself to look at the younger. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about what I could write, what I could desire. And I just didn’t come up with anything.” he smiled. “I suppose I’m happy with what I have. I’ve got nothing else to desire” another pause, during which Ohno took a deep breath. “I’ve got you. I don’t need anything else.” he sentenced, while he tried to decipher the look on Aiba’s face.

The latter had been listening to him closely, almost captivated.

He felt... no, he didn’t really know how he felt.

Ohno’s speech had surprised him; not that he didn’t think he could feel something like this, he just didn’t deem his as the kind of man to make such declarations.

There was a definite hierarchy between them: Aiba was the one who told how he felt, Ohno kept quiet, and showed with his actions that his heart was in it, even if he couldn’t say it.

That was why Masaki didn’t know how to react. He had kept silent, staring at him, without finding the right words to say.

In the end he smiled, naturally, lacking any embarrassment.

“Thank you, Satoshi. What you’ve said...” he stopped, aware that there was no right way to express exactly how he had made him feel. “Thank you.” he said again, knowing that Ohno would’ve understood.

And as a matter of fact the elder smiled, resting his hand upon Aiba’s and intertwining their fingers.

“What about you?” he asked then, changing the topic to go over the moment of embarrassment. “What are you going to write on your tanzaku?”

“Me? Ah, I’ve thought about it for a while, then I made up my mind.” he said, forgetting the impasse of a moment before. “I want to keep being happy. Like this, like I am now. With you.” he added, determined.

Ohno stared at him for a few moments; then he burst out laughing, without an apparent good reason.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing. It’s so much _you_ , something like that.” he said, getting up and going behind him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Well then, I think I’ll write down the same thing.” he said, his voice low.

Aiba turned to face him, slightly flushed.

He leaned over to kiss him, knowing there was no better answer than that

 

~

 

That night, they both hanged their tanzaku to the bamboo.

They kept staring at them for a while, fascinated.

They were good luck, of course, but they both knew they weren’t necessary.

Until they would’ve both been there for each other, they didn’t need to wish for happiness.  


End file.
